The Marine
by Alpha Anomaly
Summary: Captain Jack Mortis is the first in years to enter the Unreal Tournament willingly. What he finds and learns there will forever change his way of thinking, and he may not make it out alive...
1. Prologue: History of the Tournament

--------- Okay, this is going to be a little author's note, I suppose. This story is based heavily on Unreal Tournament/Championship. I'm placing this under Video Game Crossovers, because, well, it is one, heh. But, can't disclose what other game it'll be about yet, heh. That'd ruin all of it! Anyway, uh, R/R and just enjoy the story I suppose, heh.  
  
Disclaimer crap: I don't own any of the characters that actually come from the game, or the concept of the Unreal Tournament, those belong to Atari. The rest is mine.  
  
This story really has little to do with the storyline of Unreal Tournament; I just made up most of it. Names like Xan Kriegor and Malcolm and several other teams/members as well as Liandri Corporation are all from the game. Their roles in the game may be different, but whatever...  
  
Yeah... ----------  
  
The Marine  
  
-Prologue: History of the Tournament-  
  
The Liandri Corporation was quite well known for its evil ideas and plans. Their most hideous yet extremely entertaining project was the infamous Unreal Tournament, held every year in a variety of suitable locations. Liandri's technology was wired and fixed into each location, and it was ready for a Tournament battle.  
  
The Tournament begins every year with every participant save a select few trying to qualify for placement on a team. After these rigorous qualifications, placement in the Tournament is still not guaranteed. Only the top few teams actually are placed in the Unreal Tournament ladder. The rest are doomed to try again the next year.  
  
The teams compete each year in the ladder in several different events, trying to become the best in the events. The top two teams in the overall ladder standings duke it out in the championship match. The member on each team that does the best in this team match will go on to face the other in a final 1 on 1 all out death match. The winner will be the champion of Liandri Corporation's grip and are free to leave.  
  
The Unreal Tournament is extremely arduous, painful, and sometimes fatal to its contestants. The fans love it and every bloody moment of it is aired on national television. The Tournament is the most widely watched sport in the world. Last year, 2003, over 5 billion people were tuned in to the gory final match which saw one codenamed Dante defeat Malcolm to become the Tournament champion. Several contestants die over the course of the tournament every year. While you respawn after you are 'killed' in a Tournament arena, the pain, among other things, remains. It takes a great deal of strength and stamina to stay alive. Agility is also important, as if you're too slow to dodge a piece of flak, you could lose.  
  
From the sound of it, no one would ever wish to enter such a tournament but the insane, and the foolish. Liandri had their fair share of morons enter willingly, but there wasn't nearly enough fresh meat for the Corporation to use as pawns to grow rich. Liandri's top executives made a horrible deal with the United States government. The deal stood that instead of sentencing its worst criminals to death, Liandri could take them and enter them into the Unreal Tournament, forcing them to either win the Tournament or die in the Tournament be it from the action or from old age. This cruel idea went straight through Congress, and also went well with the people of the country. Crime rates went down slightly, but Liandri still got enough criminals from Death Row to become entrants into their sick Tournament.  
  
That was 12 years ago, in the year 1993. Gun research was entering its golden age, and the weapons produced through the genius minds around the country made perfect weapons for the Tournament. Liandri's mind blowing system allowed contestants to actually kill their opponent, then have the dead person respawned and be seemingly unharmed. The pain and soreness and the mental stress remained, however. Liandri had previously spent 10 years planning and researching this technology, and they used it for the Unreal Tournament. Many companies were fascinated and invested millions of dollars in Liandri's brilliant technology. Liandri Corporation was soon boosted to the top of the map in the stock market. They were one of the most powerful companies in the country at the time.  
  
With Liandri's research implemented and the contestants ready, the Unreal Tournament 1993 commenced. Every year the death rate climbed, every year it grew more violent and more intense, and more and more people grew interested. Soon, Tournament Ladder matches were aired all over the world. The Super Bowl and the World Series were small fries compared the magnitude of talk over the Unreal Championships. People lined up across four blocks to place bets on the final matches. The money spent each year gradually grew. The Unreal Tournament was a phenomenon. It was so brutal and violent, yet people loved it. They loved every second of it. They cheered when someone's face was blown off, and they roared applause and admiration at Multi-Kills. The Tournament single-handedly turned America into a downright disgustingly brutal place to be. Instead of soccer, little kids would play make believe Tournament matches. The murder rate soared.  
  
Here today, in the year 2004, the United States is one of the most disrespected and hated countries of all, for the evil Unreal Tournament. More and more are convicted to fight in the Tournament every year, and all those had long forgotten the original few who entered the Tournament willingly. They had not known what they were getting into. They all died quickly. As terrible as it sounds, the nine who have won the tournament all came back for more. They were the ones who lived for the kill. They were the serial killers, the trained professionals, the assassins, and the downright scum with street smarts.  
  
Xan Kriegor, arguably the best to ever fight in the Tournament, never lost a death match; he won the Tournament 3 times after being convicted of murder in the first degree along with resisted arrest. He retired and left the Tournament a hero of sorts. His reign came during the time in which the Tournament started to be popular. His name was shared in the ranks of such people who were immortalized in the history books. He was a sort of demigod, the superstar who was above all else. This was the main reason as to why he disappeared from the Tournament front after Unreal Tournament 2000.  
  
Malcolm took over where Xan left off, leading the seemingly flawless team who had always been third or second thanks to Xan's unbeatable deathmatch skills. Malcolm won two in a row, although definitely in a less dominant fashion than Xan. However, last year at Unreal Tournament 2003, a new power emerged at the Tournament. Team Lords of Chaos led by a man codenamed Dante defeated Malcolm and shocked the crowd. Malcolm's team had been the heavy favorites to win. In fact, Dante beat Malcolm in the Unreal Championships by a final score of 20 - 2. It was the most dominant blowout in Unreal Tournament history. A conspiracy theory was formed, but none was ever found. The members of Lords of Chaos, codenamed Dante, Diablo, Mephisto, Baal, Chaos, and backup man Demon posted the best frag-death rate in Tournament history at a blistering 1263-41. This year, at Unreal Tournament 2004, Lords of Chaos return to destroy all the new competition. Malcolm is returning, out for blood, and the infamous undefeated Xan Kriegor returns from the shadows to form his own team and challenge the unbelievably powerful Lords of Chaos. But behind all the drama in the top of the ranks, one of the biggest stories in the Tournament comes with me, a soldier in the Marines. For the first time since the initial Tournament, someone enters the Tournament willingly. Me. This is my story, the story of disbelievers and doubters and how one man rises to the top that you've seen so many times. But, it's a little different this time...  
  
-------- So yeah, there's my first bit of story. This chapter/prologue basically set up the storyline, and the next chapter won't be much different, heh. Don't worry; the real action and drama will come soon. Hey, you never know, a form of romance may come outta this, even I don't know yet! So, R/R, the first chapter will be up later. -------- 


	2. Chapter One: Entering the Tournament

-------- Hopefully you all enjoyed the prologue, heh, despite its boring setups. Anyway, this is where the story really gets going. R/R please, and remember if you have any stories on this site, review me and I review you. I'm nice, aren't I? Anyway... --------  
  
The Marine  
  
-Chapter One: Entering the Tournament-  
  
Jack Mortis is a Marine that's seen all kinds of action. He joined up with the Marines at age 19 after his parents pulled him out of college for failing classes. Despite not doing well in school, Jack was an extremely smart individual, and found his way in and out of things. His first passion was fighting, his second going on a drinking binge. He was an excellent officer and leader for his men. He'd led them through thick and thin, mostly thick. His squad got into the most trouble of any, but he somehow got them out. Jack retired from the Marines for a short while following the recent war with the aliens on Deimos, one of Mars' moons.  
  
Jack was built well, and stood about six foot two inches tall. He weighed a lot at 240, as he was quite muscular. He had long, straggly black hair which was rather unkempt at most times. His eyes were a deep black, he held an eerie, almost evil presence. He was kind at heart though, many people never gave him a chance, however.  
  
Jack had always been searching for the ultimate thrill. He had thought long and hard through the cold nights about what it would be, whether flying through space fighting hoards of aliens, or here on Earth flying jets into battle, or battling man to man in an arena...  
  
Finally, after weeks of thought, it finally hit him. Jack had been an avid fan of the Unreal Tournament, he'd watched Xan Kriegor rule the Tournament and he'd watched last year when Dante manhandled Malcolm. The light bulb came on in Jack's brain. He would try and enter the Unreal Tournament. He was a righteous man, and would never do anything to get himself convicted and entered in. He downed the last dregs of his beer and pulled on his black leather jacket. He stole a glance to his dispersion pistol in the corner, and grabbed it quickly. He holstered the weapon and walked out his apartment door.  
  
While roaring down the streets on his chopper, Jack starting having dreams of glory and victory in the Tournament. He saw himself running down the corridor, looking quickly behind and around him, Flak Cannon in hand. He ran down the corridor and turned the corner to see his enemy waiting for him. Jack pulled the trigger of his weapon and saw the five shards of flak launch from the cannon and bury themselves in his opponent's face. The man opposite him screamed and turned into code and respawned, but Jack had won already. His daydream flashed to him waving at a crowd, the crowd screaming repeatedly, "Jack! Jack! Jack!" Suddenly, he was thrown back to reality as a car sped out in front of him. Jack swerved off path and started to lose control. He was thrown from the bike as it fell over and skidded across the asphalt with a sickening screech. Jack landed hard on his shoulder but turned, then flipped into a roll and leaped up to his feet. He looked around at the scene. His chopper was totaled, in a heap off on the other side of the road. The car that sped in front of him had eventually caused a four car crash. The police were on the scene already, apparently a policeman was in the area when it happened. After being questioned, Jack called for a taxi, uptown to the Liandri Corporation Headquarters, where the Unreal Tournament drafting was held.  
  
----  
  
Jack walked inside the crystal doors and observed the setting in front of him. A rather plain room, just two elevators, a carpet with the Liandri logo printed on it, and a receptionist desk. There were six brown doors leading elsewhere, but Jack paid them no attention and walked up coolly to the desk.  
  
'Wow, that receptionist is a hottie,' thought Jack. He disregarded this thought however, and spoke to her calmly and surely. "Excuse me, miss, but could you direct me to where I can sign up for the Unreal Tournament 2004 qualifications?" Jack asked as politely as he could.  
  
The receptionist stared at him with blank eyes. She shook her head as if shaking herself back to reality. She felt she must of heard wrong. But then she came back down to earth and realized he was joking. The woman burst out laughing, while it became Jack's turn to stare rudely. He was legitimately confused. "No, really, where can I sign up for the Unreal Tournament qualifications?" he asked, persisting on the matter. The receptionist stopped laughing and looked at him with a look that read 'He's insane.'  
  
She finally spoke, "You, you can't be serious, can you?" She was pleading his sanity at this point, but in futility.  
  
"I'm quite serious, ma'am. Now would you please direct me to the signups location?" Jack was tired of being polite, this woman was pissing him off.  
  
The woman was still incredulous, but pointed a shaky finger toward the first blank brown door to Jack's left. Jack nodded his gratitude and walked with more intent in his step than he had previously. He opened the door forcefully and walked inside. He found a prison full of mongrels. The cells were lined up along a long hallway on either side. One cell after another lined the hallway, each one containing nothing but a bed, a makeshift toilet, and a very annoyed looking prisoner. Jack took a sideways glance to several of them. Many were gigantic; they looked like they could snap him in half. 'Probably couldn't hit the side of a barn with a gun though,' thought Jack. He kept continuing down the hallway until he found another door, this time a locked silver one. A guard stood by it, and was staring at Jack. 'Jeez, I get a lot of stares in this place,' he thought.  
  
"What in the good God's name are you doing here?" The guard sneered at him and chewed on a donut, small bits of icing fell from his disgusting mouth as he leered at the marine.  
  
Jack shook his head in dismay, then took a deep breath and asked the guard how to sign up for the Tournament. The guard, just as the others did, laughed and drew his gun. He pointed it at Jack. "You know, you have no authorization to be here, insane clown. I think you need to feel some pain, buddy. Maybe shake you back to reality some."  
  
Jack only stared at the Link Gun pointed at him. He started sweating; anticipating the first shot the guard would fire. He blocked everything out of his mind; nothing was around except for him and the officer. Jack had his own hand clenched in a death grip on his dispersion pistol; he was slowly charging it as he awaited the man's move. He concentrated only on his enemy, his face and his hand locked on his gun. "Well, you're serious, huh?" said the man. He chuckled lightly and more deliberately pointed the Link Gun at Jack's face. Jack noticed his finger slip from the primary to the alternate fire. Idiot. This would make him that much easier to kill. The dispersion pistol was finished charging, Jack could of killed him by now, but he had to prove himself somehow.  
  
The man screwed up his face and fired the Link Gun's secondary attack, a small beam of green light that melted anything it touched. If one were to get in the way of this, it would melt the skin off their bones. Jack ducked in the split second he had before he was vaporized, and rolled back behind the guard, at the same time whipping out his pistol. He let loose on the charge he had stored and a large blue bolt fired from his small pistol. It hit the guard dead in the back; he flew several feet before landed on his face, then fell with his stomach on the ground. Smoke billowed from a major burn in his back. The man twitched and moaned in pain, before getting to his feet very slowly; a hand massaging the burn in his back.  
  
He was enraged, and pulled out a communicator. "Yeah, this is Monroe. We got ourselves a rogue mental patient. He shot me in the back. Dispersion pistol. Yeah. Backup requested." He put away the communicator and wiped drool from his mouth before pointing a fat finger at Jack in rage. "You, you just wait, crazy fool. They'll get you."  
  
Jack sighed deeply, shook his straggly hair and impatiently asked, "Lookit, just tell me where I can find the damn Tournament entries!" Four heavily armed security men banged open the door Jack had come through, and ran towards them.  
  
"Hehe, you're dead now, crazy man." The fat guard ran back the other direction, as the four more dangerous ones pulled out Shock Rifles. Jack put up his hands and let the pistol fall to the floor. The four men, all well fit and looking pissed, pointed their rifles at Jack.  
  
"Whoa there, no need to pull out the heavy weaponry, we can settle this calmly," Jack said in desperation. One of the men's eyes went wide, and noticed the pistol on the floor.  
  
"Wait...you in the Marines?" he asked doubtingly. Jack nodded his head slowly, hoping that wasn't the wrong thing to say. By now, all of the prisoners were focused on Jack, several were cheering at his gall to shoot a guard. The man spoke again. "I'm Tom, remember? From your squad? You are Jack Mortis are you not?" Jack smiled with recognition. Tom Nelson was his best man, and probably had the best shot of any of them besides Jack. "Why are you here, Jack? Why'd you shoot a cop?" Tom was worried, and it showed in his face. "I don't wanna arrest you, Jack."  
  
Jack was merely relieved to have someone who would listen, finally. "Listen, I only want to enter the Unreal Tournament, nothing else. That guy, Monroe, he wouldn't let me pass, called me crazy. Maybe I am, but who knows. He pointed a gun at me and tried to shoot, I just defended myself. Now come on, Tom, please tell me where I can find the signups."  
  
Tom looked at him long and hard, and said, "Lower your weapons. He's okay." Monroe yelled in rage about his back in the distance. Tom gave further orders. "Monroe, shut the hell up. Jack, I dunno why in your right mind you would want to do this, but if you really want to, I'll take you to the entry bot."  
  
Jack smiled his gratitude and followed Tom out of the room. The criminals cheered, they couldn't wait to fight alongside and against this man. Jack entered a room that looked very plain, just like all the Liandri rooms that anyone ever saw. Totally white, various pillars in the room for balance. A small desk with a bot in the center of the room was the highlight of the room; doors leading off to various places also lined the room. Jack noticed a television camera above the desk, signups were usually aired on sports channels, he remembered. Tom led him up to the desk, typed a few keynotes into the bot's system, then nodded at Jack. "It's all ready, Jack. The bot will tell you what to do from here. Remember that once you enter the Tournament palace, you can't leave. Unless of course, you win." With a chuckle and a hug goodbye, Tom left his old captain in the hands of the bot.  
  
"Hello, sir. I am the Unreal Tournament 2004 Qualification entry robot. I will set you up with everything you need to enter the Tournament. Beware, once you enter the room to my left," the robot pointed a wiry arm at a set of double doors off to the side; "you may not leave. The only condition on leaving is if you emerge Tournament champion. If you leave that door without the Tournament crown on your head, you will be terminated by Tournament officials. Do you accept these terms of agreement?"  
  
Jack realized that the bot must have been reprogrammed to give him a choice in the matter. 'So that's what Tom was doing, hehe. Tryin' to get me outta this, sneaky bastard.' He hit the Y in the bots keyboard, signifying he understood and accepted. The bot nodded and brought up a hologram image. Select your color of battle armor, red or blue. Be careful which you pick, as you cannot join teams on the other color, nor can you interact with them." Jack pressed the hologram key signifying blue. He had always loved the color blue. He had no clue why, but he just liked it. All the good things were blue; the ocean, the sky, his dispersion pistol....  
  
Jack chuckled to himself as the bot brought up a new prompter. "Please select a codename. You may use your own, or you may type in a different name." Jack thought about it, he didn't want to use his own name. The Marines might not like one of their old Captains fighting in the Tournament. He'd have to keep that fact to himself for now. He thought some more, and thought up names that had something to do with his last name...'Mort, Mortibody, Mortisorption, Mortiorchis...Hey, I kinda like Mortiorchis. Yeah, that's it, Mortiorchis.' Jack smirked and typed in his new codename into the prompter. The robot nodded and pushed a button on it's console.  
  
Blue body armor with an empty slot in the middle came out of a drawer in front of the desk. "Here is your armor. This is what will keep you alive in this Tournament. This piece of armor is the only thing that will save you if you are hit with bullets. You will still feel the effects of what would happen if you didn't have the armor, and your energy will portray this as well. When your energy runs dry, you respawn. If you take off your armor, these effects will be real. Do not, unless you wish to commit suicide, take off this armor, unless you are in the safety and privacy of your room. Is this clear?" Jack lightly pressed the Y button, now feeling slightly unsure and a little queasy. Maybe this wasn't what he imagined...  
  
He held the armor in his hands, and wondered to himself what the blank slot was for. He assumed he'd find out soon. Jack slipped the tank top-looking armor over himself. He immediately felt better, once the protection of the armor washed over him. He loved the feeling of wearing armor once again. He was in his element again.  
  
Jack frowned for a moment, and typed into the question prompter. "But, what if I am shot in the face? My brain is another vital point, right?" He looked somewhat worried.  
  
The robot monotonously replied, "A helmet will be provided in your room. Further armor accessories will be provided, if you are good enough to pass the qualifications and make it onto a team. Any further questions?"  
  
Jack thought for a moment, then pressed the N button on the prompter. The bot nodded, and simply said. "Good luck. You'll need it." A path to the door he was supposed to go through lit up in red along the ground. Jack took a deep breath, and with a last look out the window at New York City, walked through the double doors.  
  
--------- So, how was that? R/R, please. --------- 


	3. Chapter Two: First Blood

-------- Remember to R/R, also keep in mind that I'll review your stories if you review mine, wahaha...yeah... -------  
  
The Marine  
  
-Chapter Two: First Blood-  
  
Jack stepped into his rickety room, and wondered to himself mildly how anyone could ever live in a dump like this, especially the ones who were doomed to stay in this blasted Tournament for the remainder of their lives. It must have been horrible for the bottom feeders. Jack took a look in his bathroom and threw up; he couldn't take the stench emitting from the sink and toilet. Flies buzzed annoyingly all around. His flooring looked as if it were about to break with every step. A couch that looked fifty years old sat in the center, a television and some chairs adorned the room. A cot was in the corner, seeming out of the way. The only nice looking thing in the room was a table sitting against a wall near the door. A robot stood dormant on the table, a hologram of all of the teams qualified for the Tournament and the current ladder hovered over the sleek chrome body of the bot.  
  
Jack read carefully every statistic he could about every major competitor. He'd learned a long time ago that the more one knows about his enemy, the better he will know how to defeat him. He spent hours studying the holograms, and then, near the early morning hours, decided to turn on the bot and see what it could do.  
  
It flipped on and spoke in the ever-monotonous voice the robot's share, "Hello. I am a service robot certified under the use of....Mortiorchis. Welcome back, sir. You are currently in 26th place in the qualifications, due to your already existing credentials the Marines provide." Jack shook his head in disbelief. 'Nothing gets past them, does it?' thought Jack as he looked placidly on at the robot, awaiting it's next words. "You must win a minimum of four death matches on the solo level to move up to third place in the qualifications standings. This will allow you to reach the Team Qualifications round. Should you reach this next step, I will give you further instructions. It is recommended that you begin with a one versus one match-up. There are currently four available one versus one challenges on the grid for today. Matches begin at 8:00 A.M. Would you like to accept the offers for a one versus one match from..."  
  
The robot stopped speaking for a moment and pulled up four holograms, each reading just the name of the opponent and their place in the qualifications at the time being.  
  
Silhouette- 25th Place System- 10th Place Riviera- 17th Place Terran- 20th Place  
  
Jack mused his options, scratching his head. He ran his fingers through his hair, thinking. He finally decided to take on a challenge, but not too tough of one. He figured that he could take on any of the four, but he wasn't sure, so he tapped his finger lightly on the picture next to Riviera. The robot nodded solemnly and said in the same monotonous voice, "Your match will begin at 8:45 A.M. Good luck."  
  
The robot went dead and the holograms disappeared, besides the ever present ladder. He saw with a pang that Dante had killed a poor man in the qualifiers. It wasn't pretty either, he had brutally killed him, put him in critical condition. Jack decided that once he got into the Tournament and access to more devices, he'd investigate this 'Dante' further.  
  
Jack looked at his clock. 8:42. He slipped on his body armor and walked out the creaking door and down the hall to where the spawning cage was. Jack noticed another woman walking up; she was the ugliest thing he had ever seen. Disgusting red spiked hair, she must have weighed 400 pounds. Jack wondered in amazement what she could have done to get in here. They both took their spots on the spawning selection. The announcer spoke through the intercom in Jack's helmet.  
  
"Welcome to this one on one death match between Mortiorchis (26) and Riviera (17). This match will take place on map Idoma. Frag limit is 5. Good luck to each of you."  
  
Jack felt himself dematerialize suddenly; it felt like he was being pulled apart into several hundred thousand pieces. He fell with a thud on the creaky wooden flooring of Idoma. He was shaking all over, but he took several breaths and calmed himself.  
  
He looked at the crappy assault rifle he held carefully in his hands. He picked up his Shield Gun, for now it would provide protection in case Riviera found him first. He started trotting, but slowly broke into a run through the halls. He heard himself making noise, but right now he didn't care. He had to find a weapon, fast. He froze and his eyes went wide as he heard another creaking going along with his. She was behind him. There was a Flak Cannon just ahead; he had to get to it. Jack dove for it, but not before he felt the endlessly painful shards of bullets pumping from the Minigun into him. His vision began to blur, but he turned around and took aim. He fired the cannon just as he took a face full of Minigun.  
  
Jack went black, but suddenly felt alive again as he respawned near the entrance. He heard a booming voice overhead, "First Blood!" Jack cursed and looked at the score, but he realized it was his cannon must have killed her too, as the score read 1-1. He felt less worried, but the pain in his face and back was still there. He bounded over to the Link Gun and picked it up. He turned around and started running, picking up health vials as he went. He was stopped in his tracks when a rocket flew in front of him, exploding into the wall. He was knocked over forcefully by the splash, taking some minor damage. Three charged rockets flew his direction, but Jack was able to roll and avoid them; again the splash hit him. After he got up and starting running he took a glance to the control panel of his armor and realized that he had just 28 hit points remaining. A Minigun stood in the corner, he stumbled towards it, picked it up and ducked behind the corner. Two rockets hit the wall where he stood two seconds before. He waited silently, back pressed to the wall. Riviera ran and took the corner without noticing him lying in wait. He opened fire with his Minigun, right into her back. She arched forward, screaming in the agonizing pain, before dematerializing. He picked up her dropped Rocket Launcher and went on, picking up a health cross restoring his energy partially. He felt more confident now that he had a lead.  
  
Riviera was hiding in wait in the shadows. She was waiting for him to come through to pick up Launcher ammo, as she hadn't left it very full. She had the Rocket Launcher she acquired pointed straight at the box of ammo that was there. She couldn't wait to see his blood splatter across the halls of Idoma. She heard footsteps, so she crunched down behind the box, only the Launcher pointed out. Sure enough, Mortiorchis ran straight over, picking up the ammo. She fired the Rocket Launcher, but he heard the sound and jumped, taking only minor splash damage.  
  
'I got him!' Riviera thought beaming with pride. She would fire the rocket where he would come down, and he'd be blown to pieces. Just as she pressed the primary fire trigger her eyes opened wide as she realized her gross miscalculation. The rocket didn't have enough room to get through, and it blew up in her face. Luckily, she had a piece of extra armor to help, but it was too little, too late. Mortiorchis had his launcher already pointed at the hole where she hid. Blood streamed into her eyes, burning them shut. Blinking rapidly, the last thing she saw before becoming plastered to the stone was the smirk on his confident, god forsaken face.  
  
Jack sighed with relief that the rocket Riviera fired had been off target, he would have been a pool of blood had it not blown up. He knew that Riviera would not give up easily and would probably be after him with newfound hate in her blood. He confidently ran down the halls, picking up everything he found. He decided to pick her off the easy way, and rest his throbbing legs for a while. He found a Lightning Gun and a piece of extra armor in an alcove of Idoma, where he could oversee everything in the wildlife infested dungeon. He put down a few location placers near the entrance to the alcove so that he'd know if Riviera approached. He sat down and sighed at the relief of not running constantly. He needed the brief rest. He kept a hawk-like eye over the environment, a Flak Cannon next to him in case of an emergency. The Lightning Gun was a pinpoint weapon and wouldn't be very useful in an immediate need of quick aim, especially if he was moving. After several minutes he was growing tired of waiting for her to appear, and was annoyed at her hiding.  
  
Suddenly, he heard something. It was his Locator; a detector he placed had went off. She was behind him. He quickly pulled out his Lightning Gun and waited for her to turn the corner. He entered the sniping alternate mode on the gun. His prey would be his, and he would all but lock in a win.  
  
She had seen him with the gun from a far in her hiding spot and knew he would try and snipe her face based on her height and where she would come from. He'd know exactly where she would appear due to his annoying detectors. She thought for a moment, and then had an idea...  
  
Jack was wondering why she took so long to turn the corner. She was running when the detector went off, why she would be taking so long was a mystery. His heart dropped like a stone with the sudden, horrible realization. He lowered the Lightning Gun, and heard the cock of a weapon that could only be the Flak Cannon. He turned, and was staring down the barrel of the weapon. His eyes flew open wide as he saw the shards of flak begin their descent into his face. He cried out as his entire head was blown away, his blood splattered across the room. Riviera laughed as the rest of his body dematerialized.  
  
Jack swore under his breath when he respawned. He couldn't believe he had been fooled like that. He needed to get his last two kills quickly. He checked the score quickly; just to be sure he had it right in his head. He still held a slim lead of 3-2. Jack let out a quick sigh, then headed on. He grabbed the Link Gun and then headed down the ramp, picking up the health vials. He turned and glanced through a side passage to see Riviera running along the pathway on the other side. Jack got a plan.  
  
He sprinted, trying to get there first. He rounded the corner and to his shock saw Riviera standing right there, Flak Cannon pointed at his face. His instincts gained in the Marines allowed him to duck and roll before being blown to pieces again. He came up right underneath her. He decided committing suicide with the Rocket Launcher wasn't a great idea. He pulled out the Link Gun quickly and fired the secondary fire straight up between Riviera's legs. She cried out with the agonizing pain of being annihilated from the ground up. Finally her spirit died and the bones collapsed on Jack. He shrugged them off and continued on.  
  
Riviera's eyes were glowing red from anger and pain. The Link Gun fire through her legs sent a reverberating sting of pain throughout her new body. She had trouble running very fast, and she knew that she couldn't win like this. She simply wanted to cause him as much pain as possible before she left the fight. She picked up the weapon she knew would do it, too. Only the Rocket Launcher with a point blank hit to the face would give Mortiorchis the pain he deserved.  
  
Jack was desperately running to find Riviera. His side ached horribly, the Flak Cannon shards had nicked him. He had to finish the match off quickly, or he might suffer some severe internal damage before the medics could get to him. He only had two shots with the Rocket Launcher left, and most of the ammo had been taken, so he had to use it well. He saw Riviera round the corner and jump down to his level. He took aim with the Launcher, and fired, but she rolled away and dodged. He was now standing in one place with her charging towards him. Jack swore and loaded up the last shot he had. Distantly he could hear the crowd cheering, they knew this would most likely be the final showdown. He took aim one last time and let loose the rocket. Time seemed to slow down to where every second felt like hours, Jack felt as if those four seconds lasted him a whole lifetime. The rocket seemed to move hardly at all through the air; Jack fell backward, once again, seemingly slowly, from the blast. Then, time sped up. He was once again aware. Riviera cried out, the rocket had landed! Unfortunately, she wasn't quite finished. Jack stepped back, he had no more ammo. Riviera was bleeding badly, her energy dropping rapidly. She didn't look as if she could make but two or three more steps. She staggered toward him, then took aim with the Rocket Launcher. Jack saw the three rockets loaded into the barrel. He knew this would be the definition of pain, what he was about to experience. He realized this horrible fact microseconds before Riviera released it. Three rockets exploded from the barrel and blew up into Jack's face. Since the rockets blew up so close to the gun, it ignited the other rockets loaded. A giant explosion in the halls of Idoma occurred. Jack took the initial blunt of it and was blown back fifty feet by the blast. He had nothing but his head, parts of his body, and half an arm left when he landed with a giant splattering thud. He felt a few moments of this agonizing pain before dying, and rematerializing at the gates of the Death Match. He felt like he'd been hit by a train, twice. He felt his side, and his hand came up with blood. He knelt, his vision blurry. He hardly heard the announcer proclaiming him the winner. Medics rushed to his attention. His final words before being taken by darkness were, "These had better not all be like that..."  
  
----- Wow, this one's about as long as the other two put together. Ah well, no one's complaining, right? Please R/R, I'd appreciate it so much. K, Chapter 3, which will be longer than both of these put together, should be up in a couple of days. ------ 


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